{"id":9798,"date":"2021-07-06T19:10:24","date_gmt":"2021-07-06T19:10:24","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/media-archive.blackartinamerica.com\/?p=9798"},"modified":"2021-07-08T14:00:48","modified_gmt":"2021-07-08T14:00:48","slug":"protecting-sacred-land-congo-square","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/earthexhibitions.org\/media-archive\/?p=9798","title":{"rendered":"Protecting Sacred Land: Congo Square"},"content":{"rendered":"
by Trelani Michelle<\/pre>\nDr. Koko Zauditu Selassie, in the documentary <\/span>In Our Mothers\u2019 Gardens,<\/span><\/i> warned us that, \u201cYou can\u2019t have a short memory and be Black. You open yourself up for attack. You got to have a long memory, \u2018cause we singing a long song.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n
By the time I was 19, I hated New Orleans. Left and said I\u2019d never move back. Having lived in four historically Black cities that are currently being gentrified, I now believe that\u2019s intentional. It\u2019s common for young folk to despise their hometown by their late teens. That\u2019s what \u201cthey\u201d want you to do. When you hate your city, you\u2019ll most likely leave. Whether you leave or stay, however, if you don\u2019t love it, you won\u2019t fight for it. And you won\u2019t love it if you aren\u2019t taught what makes the land so special and the people so strong. You\u2019re less likely to fight for it if you don\u2019t know the story behind why you speak, eat, worship, celebrate, and memorialize the way you do.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n
Fortunately, even when I thought I hated the city, I always found myself missing it. Missing the food, of course, but also the trees and crooked streets, colorful shotgun houses, spray-painted messages and murals, the slow waters, the bridges, the fleur-de-lis everywhere you turn, all the duck-off spots that you\u2019re proud to find before the crowd does, and how gorgeous that black pairs with that gold.<\/span><\/p>\n
Not just the place though, the people too. How loud they are. How much rhythm bounces in Black New Orleans\u2019 voice, walk, and dance. The gold teeth, tattoos, feathers, and sequins they wear because their greats wore it too. Their ability to find celebration in tragedy and their ability to hold onto culture for so long\u2014like parading for those who crossed over and for Catholic holidays like Mardi Gras and St. Joseph\u2019s Day, and for still gathering in Congo Square on Sundays to sell your goods, beat the drum, chant, sing, dance, laugh, vent, and even cry.<\/span><\/p>\n
It\u2019s the traditions that we love so much about New Orleans. More specifically, it\u2019s the traditions of the city\u2019s Black and Indigenous people that we love so much. That\u2019s what keeps us coming back for more. A lot of that tradition was both maintained and birthed during slavery. Turning jollof into jambalaya is an example of maintaining tradition, as is taking leftover rice and turning it into sweet calas. Beating the drums, gyrating to the beat, and calling and responding are also examples of maintaining tradition.<\/span><\/p>\n
Selling those calas to purchase one\u2019s freedom, dancing to the drums on Sundays, and turning an African-derived rhythm named habanera into jazz are all examples of us mixing the old with the present and creating new traditions. The fact that most of these new traditions took place in Congo Square makes it all the more sacred. Sacred in the sense that Congo Square gatherings were a custom of our foremothers and fathers; that those gatherings are still remembered and retold; that there\u2019s an actual physical space to visit and honor; that the events that occurred there were significantly pivotal to the city, then the country, and eventually the world.<\/span><\/p>\n
Congo Square birthed jazz and R&B. The second line parades that we celebrate New Orleans for started in Congo Square. The tradition of the Mardi Gras Indians did too. Voodoo also had a home in the square. Queen Marie Laveau performed many ceremonies there. So it\u2019s a historically sacred land\u2014physically, spiritually, creatively, and every other way that you can imagine. When people tell me that New Orleans <\/span>feels<\/span><\/i> different to them, I immediately think of Congo Square.<\/span><\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Because slavery is a part of our history, it also plays a significant role in how a particular people in a particular place show up. Slavery in New Orleans was similar to yet very different from slavery in\u00a0<\/span>Mississippi, Georgia, Virginia, or even North Louisiana, for instance. Many states had black codes, which were laws that dictated what Black folk could and couldn\u2019t do while enslaved and free. New Orleans had black codes too, but, because of the city\u2019s French ownership, it was called Code Noir.<\/span><\/p>\n
The French officially colonized New Orleans in 1718, and the first documented enslaved African arrived in New Orleans five years later. France gave Louisiana to Spain to pay a war debt, making it Spanish territory from 1763 until 1803. (Soon after it was sold in the Louisiana Purchase.) Both the French and the Spanish were Catholic, which points to Catholicism\u2019s strong presence in the city \u2018til this day. Just because they were religious didn\u2019t mean they weren\u2019t ruthless though. In fact, slave owners all over the country would threaten to send those they enslaved to New Orleans if they didn\u2019t obey.<\/span><\/p>\n
Mammon and Manon in Early New Orleans<\/span><\/i> wrote that \u201cEven before 1803, the New Orleans market had been used by planters in the United States to sell slaves they did not want, such as the eight leaders of Gabriel\u2019s Rebellion who were exiled there in 1801.\u201d <\/span>Working Americans, 1880-2005<\/span><\/i> documented that \u201cslaves in Kentucky and Virginia pledged to behave better in exchange for not being sold through the New Orleans slave market.\u201d Add the longstanding presence of Native Americans and the mass migration of Haitians to New Orleans during and after the Haitian Revolution, and you have a city full of warrior-hearted, spiritually-grounded folk who <\/span>overstood<\/span><\/i> the power of togetherness.<\/span><\/p>\n
Before white folks even set foot in <\/span>Bulbancha <\/span><\/i>and renamed it New Orleans, it was already sacred ground to the Native Americans. Black New Orleans and Indigenous New Orleans have a historically close relationship with one another, so it makes sense that what was once their gathering place became ours too. It also makes sense that Congo Square is located in Trem\u00e9, which is the oldest black neighborhood in the United States.<\/span><\/p>\n
Part of Code Noir was allowing us\u2014free folk, enslaved folk, Haitians, and Native Americans\u2014to gather at Congo Square on Sundays. After the Civil War, city leaders rallied to stop the gatherings and rename the square after a Confederate officer named P.G.T. Beauregard. Trem\u00e9 warriors stood up, said hell no, and began more loudly proclaiming the area as sacred ground. More than 140 years later, in 2011, city council finally formalized the name as Congo Square.<\/span><\/p>\n
Protecting sacred spaces in New Orleans, including the Trem\u00e9 and Congo Square, has been an ongoing effort. For context, Congo Square takes up about three acres in the 32-acre Louis Armstrong Park. In 1930, the city constructed the Municipal Auditorium, which is also in Armstrong Park, not far from Congo Square. Its construction was controversial too. Black folk fussed because the auditorium was initially planned to be built directly on top of Congo Square. White folk fussed because, back then, the square also contained a whites-only park and swimming pool. So they ended up building it on an adjacent block instead.<\/span><\/p>\n
Ironically (or not), in 1964, the city demolished Louis Armstrong\u2019s childhood home and everything else on the street to build the current city hall location. Then,<\/span> i<\/span>n 1980, the city knocked down nine blocks of the Trem\u00e9, displacing residents, churches, and business owners, to build Louis Armstrong Park. As if that ain\u2019t enough, from the late 1960s throughout the mid 1990s, the city destroyed even more of the Trem\u00e9 to construct the Claiborne bridge.<\/span><\/p>\n